


to be known

by purpose



Category: Game Grumps, Good Game (TV 2017)
Genre: Alex Whump, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Shameless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:29:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpose/pseuds/purpose
Summary: Alex firmly believed that there was good in everyone except for him.





	to be known

**Author's Note:**

> angst with a side of self-loathing  
> bon appétit
> 
> this was done for a prompt that was submitted over at my [game grumps blog!](http://www.dannydontyouknow.tumblr.com)  
> (you can also read it there!)  
> 

Ryland was a grump to everyone and Alex was adamant that there was good in everyone. And despite the fact that they were best friends, it does not mean they always got on. Shouting competitions ensued, enraged, callous insults were slung from both sides.

When Ryland got mad, he got cold. His posture changed and became guarded; his shoulders crept up, his eyebrows drew in, his sneer was cruelly painted across his face—complimented by his laugh.

When Alex got mad, he said what he thought and felt, and then he slunk to one of his bolt holes to fume and drink his sorrows away.

Predator and prey; pursuant and runner; grump and believer—two varied yet complementary archetypes.

Ryland had thick skin, almost nothing Alex said could get to him. He had his weak spot, and Alex knew better than to go for his Achilles’ heel for fear of damaging their relationship beyond what could be repaired.

Alex was tougher than he got credit for, so while everyone was quick to label him as ‘emotional’ or ‘weak’ or ‘naïve’ or ‘ignorant’, he was quite capable of coming up with and fitting into much worse labels. What Ryland said did not get to him, it was what he himself said later that got to him.

How could he not think that Ryland was so much better when all Alex pretended to do was keep a rag-tag team, that hated each other, together? How could he not imagine Ryland taking over the position as the coach when it was clear that he was much better suited for the job?

So, it was not the words that others said to him that got to him, but what he could spew back at himself that did.

As the competition and challenges surrounding esports grew, so did the demand for performance. If their team did not move on to the next round, this would all be for nothing. So, Alex poured himself into his team-mates, poured his heart; his soul; his energy; every fiber of his being.

There had already been too many late nights of quiet, dangerous introspection. By exhausting himself he was able to put every ounce of effort his team required into the sport and then sleep dreamlessly at night.

But, for all the love he wept into those around him, it was hard not to feel disconnected. Relationship, friendships, and teams—they were all supposedly two-way streets. But, Alex couldn’t help but wonder if that was an exaggeration because he certainly did not feel like his love was mutual.

It was one fight, the nail in the coffin, that broke his resolve. It was pointless, like all of the other arguments they had, but it felt like everything Ryland was saying was proof of all of the awful things he had been thinking, and praying that they were false, were true.

“—useless! You just take up space on the couch—a-and we still do fucking fantastic without your ‘advice’!”

“I know that I know nothing about this game, you don’t have to tell me that my continuous support means nothing—I _know_ it doesn’t.” Alex whirled away from Ryland, his hands came to rest on the wooden banister over the living room.

“Wait, Alex, I never said—”

His voice was low and got caught in his throat. “And it’s such a fucking _burden_ that I have a dream, that I want us to do well, that I’m trying so hard to make it work because  _none_  of my others have, that I want to give something back to you instead of just taking up space.”

“Dude, hold on, okay, I—”

“I _know_ that I’m just a naïve idiot, but if I’m this much trouble, this much a hardship, just send me out! You know that I could never leave you, so unless you tell me to leave, I’m staying here. But, good God, Ry,” he inhaled sharply as his voice broke over Ryland’s name. He turned back around, facing Ryland and trying to puzzle out the expression on his friends face.

While Alex believed in the good in people, he didn’t think there could be any in him. How could there be if no one felt it enough to tell him?

“Lex—”

“Let me fucking finish,” Alex ground out, his throat constricting around the words as he ignored the tracts of wet that traced his cheeks. “I’m tearing myself apart just trying to please everyone and it feels like nobody fucking considers me, or thinks of me, or wants me, o-or loves me.

“It feels like you just tolerate me because you pity me, and I don’t fucking know what to do or say to make it better. I want you—the team—to appreciate everything I do and will always do…” he trailed off, buried his face in his hands as his voice dissolved into heavy sobs.

Ryland was not a tactile person, so when warm arms surrounded Alex he jumped. With the truth out in the open, Alex had no shame in turning toward Ryland and hiding his face against his chest.

Ryland’s hands threaded through Alex’s hair, his fingers carding through the strands in an oddly comforting gesture. He felt his head being moved up and warm breath fanned out through his hair, Ryland’s mouth pressed against his forehead.

He closed his eyes and reveled in the action; he allowed himself one moment to feel comforted and _known_.

“Lexi, this clearly is some deep-rooted issue that I’m not gonna be able to fix with a hug and some words,” Ryland started, breaking the silence, “but, it hurts me to hear what you think of yourself and what you think _we_ think.

“I need you to know, and not doubt—not even for a second—, that I appreciate every fucking thing you do for this team. It was hurtful and wrong for me to say any of that shit to and about you. I didn’t and will never fucking believe any of that. You mean…” he paused, seeming like he was looking for words.

When the silence dragged on, Alex tilted his head up to look at Ryland, who had his eyes closed. “Ry?”

Ryland opened his eyes, his arms seeming to tighten around Alex like he was trying to protect him from something. “I love you, Alex. It seems like you’re gonna be here forever because I could never ask you to leave, I don’t know how I’d deal without you. The only space you take up is some weird, human-shaped hole in my heart, okay, dude?”

Alex smiled wanly, his tears dripping over his mouth. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to say something in return, but something vicious crept up and snuffed out any hope Alex had begun to believe in.

“You’re not just saying this because you pity me, right?” Alex had to ask, he did not know how he would live if he was forced to walk around with that suspicion in his heart.

“This shit doesn’t come easily to me, Lex, if I’m saying it, it means I believe it wholeheartedly. Okay?” Ryland said, his voice sounding more confident in this than anything Alex had ever heard before.

He felt his heart clench at Ryland’s words. He didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded. He just let himself be held and basked in the warmth of feeling loved, and appreciated, and known.

 


End file.
